


engrave our names in the skyline

by Skiek



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: M/M, also its kinda a college au?? in the first two chapters at least, basically gavins gay for michael, the band au nobody asked for
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 18:11:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4273071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skiek/pseuds/Skiek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>excerpt:"And there’s that fucking grin, and Michael takes the last of the cake into his mouth, and Gavin feels like dying in that moment. (he decides michael is part god. isnt there a word for that? whatever, it slips him at the moment, along with how to breathe and how to function like a proper human being. he holds his breath.)"<br/>(aka the band au nobody asked for.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	engrave our names in the skyline

**Author's Note:**

> sO THIS IS KINDA. MY BABY. IVE BEEN WORKING ON THIS FIC SINCE FEBRUARY AND I ONLY HAVE ONE CHAPTER WRITTEN SO FAR SO IF YOU LIKE IT PLEASE TELL ME AND ILL CONTINUE WORKING ON IT. THANKS. <3

They meet at a coffee shop. It’s quiet, quaint, off the corner of Third and Fifteenth street, where the coffee is honestly too dark for Gavin’s taste and the lights are too dim, but where the atmosphere is accepting and it’s always cheap. It’s near his dormitories, (where his roommate takes up too much space and leaves too little left over so he sleeps on buses at noon when he doesnt have classes and only uses the small space as a storage area when he needs it, but most times its just a formality and an expense he pays too much for.) only a twenty minute walk or a five minute bus ride. (but the bus only comes by at two and five, both times that he has classes on tuesdays and fridays, so most times he walks. its a nice walk, at least, with lighted streets and the occasional bench for when he needs to sit down.) 

It’s over the last piece of coffee cake, with the apple crumbles that Gavin loves so much. Their pastries aren’t bad, the coffee cake delicious to the sweet tooth’s taste buds, and the cake especially is only two dollars and twenty three cents a piece. (why such an odd price? the barista that works there whenever gavin visits couldnt tell you if you tried. and trust the brit, hes tried numerous times.) The other person is bulkier than Gavin, but shorter, arms decorated in a sparse array of tattoos reminding him of the occasional video game he enjoys in his spare time.

“Look,dibshit,I was at the counter first, so I fucking get the coffee cake!” The other is shouting at him, jersey accent dripping from his voice in anger. Before, when it’d started as a civil conversation between them, the college student had noticed the slight accent (that obviously the stranger that now is yelling at him had been trying to suppress, but now drips like water from a faulty pipe. god, gavin almost likes it. almost.) but hadn’t made any comments, his own accent a reminder of the embarrassment that can come with one. (not that hes embarrassed by his accent, god no, but he still remembers years of teasing and flirting over just that, and over nothing involving his own personality and people fawning over his voice for the slight british accent that hasnt been watered down throughout the years.) Now, however, that has changed, and Gavin finds himself almost immediately in love with the tones of the others’s voice, and as a music student he wants to pluck the voice from his body and tune it like an instrument, adjust it and play it like the guitar he has back in his dorm, strum his vocal chords and just fall in deeper of the pit that is the stranger’s voice.

“Ya can take the coffee cake,” Gavin sputters, because wow he’s doing something nice for a change, (his mother would be proud) and moves his arms to signal at the cake that sits on the counter, the barista amused by their argument as they push it towards the stranger.

And for a moment, the stranger looks almost confused by the sudden drop of the argument, and looks between Gavin and the cake for a moment, before shrugging and paying for it; a seat is taken almost immediately as they order no drinks. 

And Gavin settles for a raspberry white mocha, the smooth chocolate hints lapping at his throat as he takes the seat right across from the stranger.

He extends a hand.  
“Gav.” 

The stranger stares at his hand, as both of his are currently preoccupied with the cake, but as he takes the last bite of the sweet he brushes the crumbs from his hands and extends one, gripping Gavin’s hand in a strong grip (and he swears he feels electricity pump through his veins, the strangers touch warm and cool and everything at once and nothing all together and its incredible and makes him feel so alive and so gone and so there and he wants to let go and never let the grip leave his own.) as he introduces himself as Michael. (his hand lingers for just a second after they let their grips go, the handshake over by now. gavin wants that linger to last forever, because he doesnt know what it is about this stranger that has him wanting him so badly,but its there and its real and its so powerful that it shakes him to his core.)

“You should come here more often.” And the words are in the air, now, and it’s only the two of them in the small cafe, (besides the barista, but theyre off doing whatever. good job!) and it’s almost a shared secret, between the two of them, and Michael’s grinning at Gavin as he nods. 

“I am here pretty often. You should come here more when I come here,” Michael replies, jotting down a note with a ten digit number on it, the area code not from around the Austin area, and Gavin grins back at him as he jots down his own number in a messy scrawl. (and he feels satisfied, knowing he actually has made a friend in this god-forsaken town, and that maybe hes going to stand a chance. )

(he likes to think that.) 

 

“So,Michael, when do ya come ‘round then.” And he feels that connection with Michael, and they’ve barely talked but he’s always doing this, connecting with strangers and getting attached and getting hurt and it’s a truly vicious cycle, one that’s controlled and shaped and shifted his life to the point where he’s here. (and hes thousands of miles from home, his real home, because he fucked up and lost his friends and family and now hes lost and alone and desperate for attention.)

Michael’s pausing, amber eyes drifting to the ceiling (gavin hadnt noticed how beautiful the other was earlier, but his eyes are truly stunning and catching and captivating.) and landing there as he bites down on his bottom lip, before replying to Gavin’s simple question.

“Tuesdays and Fridays, usually, but sometimes I come around on Saturdays if I feel like it.”

Fuck.

“Smegging hell, that doesn’t work with me. Classes and all, ya know? We can meet up somewhere else, ya’re in college right? Maybe campus? What classes do you have?” And Gavin’s bombarding poor Michael with questions, and even on the first one the other is shrinking into himself, teeth meeting red lips and biting down, and as the questions continue to flow Michael shrinks more and more into that dark pit, it takes Gavin far too long to notice his new friends despair.

“Hey.”

“Ya okay?” And the concern is evident in Gavin’s voice, tone soft as he extends a hand towards the hunched over Michael.

“Yeah, just-can we stop talkin’ about college? I was having a nice day and all.” And Gavin’s recoiling, hands flying up to block himself as he instantly spat out a long list of apologizes. But Michael interrupts him, holding up a sole hand and looking down at the floor still.

“There’s no need to apologize, okay?” 

And yeah, Gavin’s nodding and agreeing, because why the fuck did he apologize even? (maybe its a remainder from the years spent using apologizes like a safety blanket, wrapped around his metaphorical shoulders and held in place fiercely. he almost misses it these days.)

“So, what about meeting up next at the library?” And Michael’s taking a bite of the stupid apple coffee cake, a smirk on his stupid freckled face as he takes that sly bite of the previously-fought over delight, lips wrapping around the fork, (and gavin can almost hear the slide of teeth against the metal, and its too much for him and quickly has him looking down at the table, looking back up when he feels ready to confront the mess that is michael.)

“That works!” But there’s something else there, something else biting at him, an offer that he simply has to make. 

“But-just hear me out, maybe we could meet up at my dorm? I mean, I know college is a touchy subject, but I just-” And he’s starting that babble again, a long string that’s never going to stop until he’s shut up by Michael, (which he promptly is) and suddenly a piece of the baked good is waved in front of his face with a fork, extended till it’s in his mouth, the flavor exploding in a firework of colors and tastes.

“Shut up. You’re babbling again. But yeah, we can meet at your dorm, just give me the address and when slash what time we’ll meet up.” There’s that grin again, and Gavin’s so fucking stricken with the want to take a bloody picture of that grin and plaster it on his wall and on his phone and everywhere and-

Stop.

Deep breath, Gavin.

“Yeah-just-” Gavin grabs a pad from his bag, pulls out a pen and quickly jots down his address on it, ripping the page off from it and handing it to Michael.

“Here ya go.” 

And there’s that fucking grin, and Michael takes the last of the cake into his mouth, and Gavin feels like dying in that moment. (he decides michael is part god. isnt there a word for that? whatever, it slips him at the moment, along with how to breathe and how to function like a proper human being. he holds his breath.)

“So,I’ll, uh, see ya later?” His breath is hitching in his throat, as those feminine hands come up to wrap around the back of Michael’s neck, and he can almost hear the sound of Michael’s fingernails dragging against his own skin.

 

“Yeah!” Gavin feels himself be awkward, and when Michael’s gone he melts into the seat, letting out a breath of air.

“I’m so screwed.”


End file.
